


Between Catastrophes

by crystalsexarch



Series: Unlimited Umbral Works [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Established Relationship, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), this is part two of What We Already Know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-07 12:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21458053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalsexarch/pseuds/crystalsexarch
Summary: 5.1 content within. This is part two of "What We Already Know" but could possibly be read without that context.The Warrior of Light and Darkness returns to the First - and to her lover who's been impatiently awaiting her return. While the Warrior sets about helping the Scions, the Crystal Exarch develops an embarrassing problem of his own...and each of them wrangle atadof emotional trauma.Chapter Two - E- The Warrior confronts the Exarch about a particularly bad idea he floated. They waste a bit too much energy before heading into battle.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Unlimited Umbral Works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530545
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 11/16 Well, I'm finally starting to post these now. Eventually will have a table of contents. Have everything planned out and it's going to be spicy. Hoping it has some weight here, too.
> 
> Ask me about the Crystal Exarch Discord I'm in, if you're curious. It's made my life a beautiful disaster and I regret nothing.
> 
> Also the Discord wanted me to name the first chapter "Absence Makes the Dick Grow Harder" so I see no reason why you wouldn't want to be there.

Ten nights together, eleven days. And then the Warrior was gone. Coloring all the Exarch’s activities from the moment she slipped through the Portal was one simple imperative: daydream. Daydream all day long, as long as he could.

Mostly, he wondered how she would return to him - with arms around his neck? As a surprise in the middle of the night? - but in his darker moments the question became thus: _would_ she return to him at all?

He reclined over a plush sofa they’d brought into the Umbilicus, his body heavy, as though he'd spent the day wandering Lakeland instead of coordinating recovery efforts just outside. His eyes were closed, his neck curved over the arm rest, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Amorously as he and she had parted, the nature of her status as the Warrior of Darkness meant he could not escape the fact that she had _many_ admirers in Norvrandt, and he imagined the Source as well. For the first few days he skipped. And then he stewed. And then he clammed up entirely.

Jealousy did not befit an Exarch, but it wasn’t the only emotion he’d not felt in earnest for some number of centuries. The Warrior’s companionship made him feel adolescent in many regards, made blood flush to certain parts of his body, kept him awake when he ought sleep, made his heart beat and palms sweat when nary a soul was near. Oh yes, he was well aware of, and embarrassed by, the symptoms. For the second time in his life, he lived like an agitated and lust-addled scholar. As much as he thought of loving her, he thought also of _having_ her again, of studying her body so thoroughly that _he alone_ could satisfy her, send her to the stars, to -

His ears flicked to towards the Ocular. Even as footsteps echoed about, it took his weight in willpower to stop his hand from issuing another hearty stroke. Though he had resigned to pleasuring himself when he felt he _had to_, he did so only with his duties fulfilled, appointments met, errands run. No one should have been in there. _No one._ Unless…?

“Raha?”

He stood so fast he nearly tripped over his tail. Holding his breath, he fumbled to right his smallclothes, smooth his robes, wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. Shock or guilt kept his face emotionless as he went about the Umbilicus, checking papers, fixing chairs, searching for nothing in particular, but _anything_ that could have tipped her off to the nature of his seclusion.

What a weak man he had become.

And how excited was he to have her home.

“Mercy…” A little spirit caught on his breath, nothing more. He inhaled, exhaled until his face didn’t _feel_ quite as hot. Uncertain still that shame no longer colored his cheeks, he stepped into the Ocular and saw, for the first time in what felt like an age of lust and tumult, the woman he loved and longed for.

The Warrior clicked her helmet off and held it against her waist. With eyebrows upturned _just so_, blush on her cheeks lit against her scales - G’raha felt shamed to have doubted her affections. “H...hello, then,” she said, tapping the tip of her boot on the floor. “Have you managed without me?”

“Managed?” His ears went back, his tail flared. It was all he could do to stop himself from leaping into her arms. His hands searched for the right thing to do: embrace, caress, grasp? “I-I’ve - I must say it troubles me how acutely I felt your absence.”

“And I yours...I’ve no choice to admit.” A wry smile.

“I hope your time in the Source was suitably...productive?”

She blinked and lowered her head. “I saw Edmont…”

“I am glad.”

“He is well.” She brushed back her bangs and smiled through a web of pain. “But there is another problem.” Two worlds weighed upon her shoulders, small as she was, and in those moments she wore that weight more than he’d seen it since...since…

...since she defeated the Lightwardens on his behalf…

A pit formed in the Exarch's stomach. Who was he to forsake his decades and play a young man once again? To lust after someone a fraction his age, albeit a dear and powerful friend? Each time he parsed a conclusion - _This is okay. This is all right. This is true._ \- something fingered the wound once more, and he bled until someone had the nerve to ask why he was bleeding. The answer, never quite the truth.

But her return was no time to play the brooding lover. He clicked his chin up and advanced, arms wide and warm. “Oh, of course there is. My love…” But a few ilms taller than she, he felt his frame was formidable enough to offer her some comfort should he guide her forehead to his chest. Horns rubbed his collarbone. He searched for places on her mail not liable to stab him. She lost her grip on her helmet and it tumbled across the crystalline floor.The embrace was anything but graceful, but perhaps that’s part of the reason she started laughing.

“Raha,” she said. “We must summon the others.”

“Of course! But I want you to know how thankful I am that you are safe.”

“You are...too kind.” She gazed at him with glowing Auri eyes, deep as the seas her fellows claimed. Would that he could see that place someday and meet the ones she cherished.

Slipping into a lover’s behaviors made sense to his body, but his mind lagged behind and questioned each move. While his fingers traced her eyebrows to her scales, he wondered whether he should have stopped to pick up her helmet. While he cupped her cheek and leaned in, he wondered if he should have asked to kiss her first. He inhaled when their lips met and caught the scent of rainwater and greenery. Visions of Gridania reached from beyond the Portal and convinced him that yes - someday he could return - but when she pulled away the truth did not linger as her cheek did beneath his hungry touch.

“We must summon the others,” she whispered, eyelids yet low and full of ardor and affection. A look of love and trust. “This could be very serious.”

“I understand. And I am with you.”

She swiped a strand of hair from the bridge of his nose. “And thank the gods you are.”


	2. Kiss My Metaphor - E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter two** \- The Warrior confronts the Exarch about a particularly bad idea he floated. They waste a bit too much energy before heading into battle.

Before the Warrior - a list of simple instructions, as always. Simple for her. Go here, fight this, retrieve what is needed, save those you are able to save. Mourn those you have lost. And as simple as her current instructions must have been, standing in the Ocular before her lover and her comrades, they went through her completely. In their place, the only part of the conversation she could remember, and the dark memories it conjured from her past.

“There remains one sure method,” he had said. And though he danced around it, much as he had danced around his own affection, she knew sure enough what he meant.

Moments after he spoke, the color drained from her face. Knowing her - knowing her past - how could he? Y’shtola looked away. Urianger bowed his head. Alisaie’s lip had twitched in frustration, an emotion she channeled into her fingers to let him know how she felt about it.

The rest of the conversation buzzed like white noise in the Warrior’s head. _How could he? He knows. He ought to know by now._

She had felt it even as Gosetsu consigned to sacrifice himself at Doma Castle. A shake in her knees, then a numbness in her fingers. Then, any motion could have toppled her over. She became as a flower in the breeze whose stem had been halfway severed, Raha the one who had snipped it this time around. She did not move.

A consensus reached, a decision made. _Go there. Fight this. Kill them. Save those._ What did it matter? What was sitting at the end of Raha’s list?

The doors to the Ocular clicked, leaving the Exarch and the Warrior alone. He hung his head and ears low, rubbed his arm of flesh with his arm of crystal. And she was so _angry_. Hurt foremost, but _mad_, like the Fury could manifest between her teeth if she opened her lips too soon.

A blessing, perhaps then, that he spoke first.

“Forgive me,” he said, edging his red eyes toward her. “My first instincts are not known to be the most appropriate.”

Her head practically fell into her hands. Blinking failed to ward away the stupid, hot tears rage so often forced from her. “Why in Seven Hells is that your _first_ instinct?!”

Raha looked like he’d been dropped into the room with no context.

“Don’t just stare!” She lurched forward and clenched her fist. “Know you anything at all of my past? Or must we - must we go through it all again?”

“I…”

“What of your history books, then?” She was running out of steam already, though she could rage for bells at others. "What is _wrong_ with this picture?"

“There’s no excuse for - “

“What of those who - those who have already followed that path for my sake?”

He mumbled something and wilted into robes that seemed more and more to swallow him whole.

“What of - what of -”

He straightened his arms and called her name sounding almost as he had calling her from beyond the rift, what seemed like ages ago. “I am sorry,” he said, articulating each syllable so it echoed through the Tower, perhaps came from the Tower in the first place. “I have seen myself as lost for so long it is...difficult to remember you have found me.”

“I _have_ found you.” She surged forward again, just a fulm away from him now, with shaking hands clasped around the collar of her mail. “Are you so eager to be lost again that you’d throw your life away?”

He held his palms up, a soothing gesture. “I - “

“_Don’t_.” More water than warrior now, she let herself fall into him. He whispered her name and caught her beneath her shoulders, eased her to the ground near the base of the platform. As she pushed her metal-laden fingers into his back, she knew it would hurt him - perhaps her words had, too - but how could she afford to let go when he’d set thoughts of his _oh-so-noble_ sacrifice in her head?

“There is no excuse for what I’ve said,” he repeated, softer. “I can endeavor to improve myself, my words and my deeds, from this moment forward. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever believe I would…actually…be able to...”

An arm once wrapped around her disappeared. When she raised her head, she caught him crying into his crystal hand.

“I am sorry,” he said again. “I’ve been living with a foot in the grave for so long, I - “ He peaked between his fingers and quirked the corners of his lips up, though his eyebrows still quivered to a point. “Forgive me, I cannot help but smile.”

“W-what?”

“Your face, is...even now…”

She lowered her brows. “What.”

“So fierce.” He nodded, apparently feeling as though he’d landed on the right word. This was the man who had lingered outside her room at the Pendants and wondered whether she'd have liked him to come inside, the man who blushed when reminded of the day they first met. “Even with your rage directed at me, I cannot help but feel emboldened upon viewing it.”

Emboldened? She half-laughed - a sound colored by stress - and pulled away to rub her forehead. “I...I do not mean to rage.”

“Your rage is justified.”

“I think that...my instincts, too, should be improved.” She shook away visions of Coerthas, the warm and the very, very cold. The hot chocolate and the chill of death. “Since that day, I have developed a particular reaction to...things of that nature.”

“I won’t call myself a fool again.” He set his hand upon hers. “But I should have known.”

The Warrior crept closer to her lover, clicked her gauntlets and gloves off, and set her ring-graced finger at his cheek. “A willingness to learn from one’s mistakes is a key part of any relationship, romantic or otherwise.”

“Of course,” he said, swallowing.

“That being said...would you like to learn something new?” Her eyelids were low, her cheeks just _slightly_ pink.

His eyes darted to the Ocular’s door, then back to her. “Have you something in mind?”

“Would you like to learn how to remove my armor?”

He raised his chin. “At this moment?”

“I suspect it won’t take long, what with our recently ended separation.” Sly eyes glimmered with mischief, watching his face light up with red.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, Warrior.”

“Did you touch yourself often when I was away?”

His eye twitched and he bit hard into his lip. “Ah - I - “

“_I_ did almost every night, if you must know. Hoping you might spy on me with that magic mirror of yours.”

He turned to look at nothing in particular, giving her plenty of time to admire his blushing profile. “I’d not like to invade your privacy.”

“Would you rather I invade yours?” She approached on bare hands and armored knees, clanking across the floor. “For a start, what exactly were you doing before I entered the Tower? You looked awfully flushed when you emerged from your private quarters...”

___________

By the Twelve. He’d had it. They’d be on their way soon enough. There was aught he had to do beforehand - nay, it would _benefit_ his comrades if he cared for this particular problem before heading into battle with a lust-burdened brain and body.

But there remained the issue of her mail. Her sollerets had been easy enough to pry from her legs. She’d removed most of the arm pieces prior to their current engagement - her helmet as well, though he’d observed her taking it off enough to glean a few secrets of its custom construction. By the time he had to think about her greaves and chest piece, he’d been kissed and palmed in a thousand places - all but the place that burned the most.

She straddled him on her knees, meaning his lips sat at the same level as her woefully hidden breasts. With a hand on either side of her hips, he furrowed his brow and searched for answers. 

“A less honorable man may have found the right place from the beginning,” she said, placing her hands at his ears, squeezing.

“Are you saying…?” _Ahah._ There, between her thighs, a clasp on the inner part of either leg. Triggering them caused each armor piece to expand, revealing soft cloth and an easy way off. He practically growled with contentment, cradling her forward so he could remove the armor, then the underpiece. Smallclothes, he knew, would be a simple matter.

“Are you stopping there?” she asked.

“A moment.” He raised himself, undid his own belts and clasps, and pulled his robes off in one simple, ungraceful go. Feeling a chill, he realized he had never been quite so naked in the Ocular. _No matter. We deserve this, and I’ve no mind to wait much longer_.

He sets his eyes on removing that last piece, that dark and dangerous vestment so typical of her class. It carved quite the silhouette, but _gods_ was he eager to see what waited beneath.

“Not yet,” she said, pushing him back by the shoulder. “Content yourself to gaze upon me as a Dragoon for now.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned back on his elbows and watched her advance. Instinct told him to remove his shorts, and he did so with fresh fear in his eyes.

She looked down and bit her lip. “It looks like you know what I mean already.” Slowly, she edged her smallclothes to the side, edged her heat over his member and...fingered herself.

He threw his head back against the next step of the platform and moaned her name.

She laughed. “Are you impatient?”

“I...I’ve waited long enough, haven’t I?”

“Well, you got to touch yourself beforehand. Oughtn’t I get the chance?”

He watched her sink her fingers in and out and felt drunk with arousal. This woman, this force of nature, still partially armored - _gods_ why hadn’t he conjure that image before? He couldn’t grind his teeth enough. “I wouldn’t have...done that, had I other options, my love…"

“You talk so sweet, but your face is so easy to read.” She rocked her hips over her fingers once more, then set that hand at his member, teasing it with a half-hearted stroke. “Are you certain you’re ready?”

“Please.”

The moment he felt wetness at his tip, he realized he was not quite willing to relinquish control. Instead of letting her lower her body over him, he wrenched his fingers around her thighs, pushed her down, thrust his hips up. Pleasure ebbed over him, and he thought his actions may even have surprised her, for she fell forward upon his chest and trembled.

“Sorry,” he said, panting.

“Tis...tis no matter.” She righted herself and cleared her throat. “I’m just glad I didn’t stab you.”

He laughed. “It would have been worth it. Please. Keep going.”

“Ah…”

She set her hands on his collarbone and rode him with her eyes closed. He’d resisted the initial shock - perhaps due in part to his earlier ministrations - but each wave doused his hot confidence with a splash of cool water. There was only so long she could sit atop his cock before he either involuntarily burst or tried to overtake her in a desperate attempt to hide how much he craved release.

“I want to touch you,” he said.

“Touch me then. Please.”

“I want...that last piece gone.”

“I’ve had other partners figure it out.”

He groaned. Her thighs had shook around his waist. Perhaps her own endurance was not as stable as she’d hoped. “Were those partners Dragoons, my love?”

“...one may have been.”

And he suspected the one, as well...in fact, the thought of a man like that and a woman of her size...best not to think on at such a delicate time. “An unfair advantage. Please, I’d not like to rip it from you.”

She laughed and shifted forward, left only his tip within. Eyes wild, she whispered. “I’d very much like to see you try.”

Perhaps that’s what he would have done, had she not left him in such a maddening position. Instead, he plotted another route, one that involved him gripping her ass hard and fucking her from beneath.

Her eyes widened. “Raha - you’re - “

“Kiss me,” he growled, keeping up his pace.

She listened. Even with mail poking into his chest, gritty against his crystal skin, the force of biology was too powerful - he needed to keep working up into her until he’d spilled himself inside, needed to pleasure her until she’d hold him forever, take him or be had by him at any and every moment. She broke the kiss only to moan sirensong into his ear, and so wild was his mind he thought only _anyone nearby will know the master of this Tower._

“Raha!” She was coming. She was pulsing around him, shaking as she hadn’t before.

Leaving one hand at her rear, he pushed her lips back to his and bit until finally, thighs burning, he came so hard his eyes went white and he thought maybe he’d thrown his life away anyhow.

The Warrior reared her head back at the sensation, and Raha kept his fingernails dug into her skin until she fell once more upon his chest. The same hand that had locked her mouth to his now stroked her hair. Sweat coated the back of her neck. He shuddered at the thought of putting his robes back on - and going into _battle_ \- so hot and wet and wanted.

“I am impressed,” she breathed onto his shoulder.

“Hmm?” It sounded like a purr.

“As far as lessons go...I believe you learned the far more valuable one.”

Pants punctuated his speech. “What might...that be, my love?”

“Why bother learning to remove my armor when you’ve already learned there are certain things it can’t protect me from? You, for one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d like to be protected from me.”

“No, quite the opposite.” She wiped her bangs back and grinned at the ceiling. “But that won’t stop me from playing hard to get.”


End file.
